10:20 pm
by TheInternetHomo
Summary: Dan and Phil have grown apart due to Dan breaking things off months ago. Can they reconfigure a lost relationship? PHAN ONESHOT. Smut, angst, idek.


**_[Please listen to the song 'Time' by The Mowgli's while reading this, or maybe 'Breakers' by Local Natives. Well, you don't have to, because maybe it doesn't exactly match the one shot. Whatever.] This is set pre-2013 phan. So it's stone-cold, we're-barely-friends phan. Enjoy this, and happy 2014. xx_**

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Phil looks at the clock. It's 10:20 pm. His heart stops, but only for a moment. For whatever reason, his eyes always seem to search for the time at 10:20 when the sun is down, which is strange in itself. For 10:20 is somewhat of a sacred time for both him and Dan. 10:20 brings back memories. Important memories. Memories that are unearthed every time the clock is caught hitting 10:20 pm. For at 10:20 on a cold November night, Dan and Phil had completely given themselves to one another for the first time.

Phil feels embarrassed, thinking about those past events, because those events are just that, the past. It's not as if Dan's interested anymore, and Phil's not interested in Dan. No, they had gotten over one another long ago.

But maybe they hadn't.

Maybe Phil hadn't. Maybe Phil can't stop thinking about Dan, and maybe that makes him mad. And horny. Not that he can help that. Dan's gorgeous. Anyone can tell that. But no, Phil is over Dan. He has to be. Dan had made it perfectly clear that they were never going to be a thing ever again when he had broke everything off.

"I need water," Phil mumbles to himself, because it's not as if Dan were sitting on the couch beside him, willing to listen to ever tangent that escapes Phil. They never sit with each other anymore. Phil pushes himself up and wanders down the hall and into the kitchen. His chest hurts. That's normal though. It happens whenever he sees the time.

His hand reaches up into the white cupboard to fetch a glass that almost slips through his grasp as something makes a crash, followed by a muffled cry.

"God fucking damn it," Dan hisses from the other side of the glass door Phil's gaze slowly travels up to Dan's eyes, which are scrunched up from the impact. When they open, they meet Phil's. Dan notices how sad Phil's eyes are. Phil is the first to look away; he knows Dan won't say anything to him. He bends down to turn on the sink. Dan continues to watch his old boyfriend through the glass pane. Phil doesn't know Dan still watches him. He doesn't expect him to. But Dan always watches. He never stopped watching.

Dan opens the door slowly, stepping carefully into the kitchen. It's strange; Dan and Phil are hardly ever in the same room at the same time anymore. And then Dan does the extraordinary, and speaks to Phil out of a professional setting for the first time in a long time.

"Hello," He coughs, leaning against the kitchen counter, the back of his head slowly hitting the cabinets above. Phil freezesas the water begins to fill his glass. The liquid spilling over the top is only thing that seems to snap him out of his trance.

"Hi," Phil acts as if wiping off the outside of his cup is the most important thing in the world. Dan sighs as Phil's tongue makes an appearance, poking out of his mouth slightly. Phil brings the glass to his mouth, tipping his head back slightly as the water washes down his throat. He turns around to face Dan, leaning against the counters adjacent to the sink. Their feet point at each other. Neither of them seems to know how to form words, so Dan says the first thing that comes to his mind.

"So, have you seen the time?"

Phil stares at him, eyes wide and maybe slightly beginning to water.

"What?" His voice is hoarse and shaky.

"The time, it was just 10:20." Dan smiles to himself and chuckles at the ground. "Don't you remember, Phil?"

Phil does remember, of course, and his memories carry him to Dan, right to the very edge of Dan. Their toes touch. It's the first physical contact they've had in months. Phil doesn't know what he's doing. His hand reaches up slowly to brush Dan's cheek. He misses his fringe that used to cover the skin his hand now covers. His thumb grazes the skin just under brown eyes. Dan looks so tired, especially up close.

"What are you doing, Phil?" Dan breathes out, curling his toes under Phil's.

"I have no idea," He mumbles in response, shutting his eyes and biting his lip. They stand like that for longer than any two platonic exes' should. Dan studies Phil's face. He hasn't been this close to him since... it's been a while. Dan can see the pain through Phil's eyelids, the pain that he caused.

Phil wonders why Dan hasn't pushed him away yet.

Dan wonders what Phil's thinking about. It feels natural for him to place his hands on his waist, so he does.

Phil's eyes flutter open at Dan's touch. His lips curl up slightly, but only for a second.

"Dan, stop. You don't have to…" Phil sighs, dropping his hand and pulling away, but Dan holds him in place.

"Don't have to what?" Dan tightens his grip slightly. Phil's eyes almost turn icy at the question.

"Pretend to care," Phil says clearly. His voice doesn't waver. He doesn't shake. He spits out the truth. "Let me go, Dan," He pushes the younger boy's hands away and backs up. He turns away and reaches for the door, but he doesn't make it. Dan's hand catches his shoulder, and turns him around.

"I'm not pretending."

"Dan, let me go." Phil looks angry. He never looks angry.

"I'm not losing you again."

This is the tipping point for Phil.

"You never lost me, you fucking idiot!" He shouts, twisting to get Dan's hand off of him. "You tried to get rid of me _on purpose_. You didn't lose me; you threw me away."

Dan remains still, dumbfounded at Phil's courage and words. He, of course, knows that he did push Phil away, far away. But for what reason? There was no other reason than fear, and that makes Dan feel like dirt.

"Phil, I-"

"I'm going to bed," Phil says, but he doesn't make the effort to move. He stares at Dan, his gaze hard. Dan doesn't know what to do. He's not good in these situations. He's not good in any situations, really. So he does what comes to him naturally on impulse alone. He wraps his arms around Phil, stands up straight, and brings their lips together.

Dan can feel words of protest start to form on Phil's perfect mouth, but they're never heard. He pulls away, his eyes remaining closed from the recent kiss.

"I-I'm sorry," He starts to mutter, but then he feels Phil's hands on this chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

"You should be," Phil whispers, twirling around and pushing Dan against the glass door and kissing him feverishly. He feels something wet on his cheek, and he realizes that he's crying, Dan's crying. Why? Because they've missed each other's touch, even if they couldn't admit it to themselves. Dan's pulling Phil closer by the second, their weight depending on the glass door. They're so enfolded in one another that they don't care to realize the clothing that flies off their persons and onto the tile of the kitchen. The moans and grunts that had once possessed the entire flat return after a long vacation as Phil prepares Dan for the first time in months as Dan leans against that same door.

It's as if nothing has changed, but it has. They've grown, become separate even. They're lost, and ready to be found within the other.

Phil picks up Dan, who wraps his legs around the older boy's waist, and slowly slides into him. Dan gasps as his back hits the cool glass panel. He hisses at the brief discomfort, leaning into Phil, who continues to pump into him slowly. He bites into the unblemished shoulder, his eyes watering slightly. He feels a pair of lips caress the shell of his ear as a shaky but certain "I love you" is whispered to him. He lets out a cry, but not from the pain, that has subsided immensely.

He cries because Phil has forgiven him.

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Tell me what you think!

Phancakes,

~TheInternetHomo~


End file.
